We Were Always Proud
by inuloveskago
Summary: To say he was nervous was an understatement. The papers rested in a little box in his room - had rested in his room for many years in hopes of certain eyes gazing upon them someday. Now that they're with him, he couldn't seem to find the courage to give it to them. [Family Fluff - Arnold/Stella/Miles] One-shot.


To say he was nervous was an understatement. The papers rested in a little box in his room - **had** rested in his room for many years in hopes of certain eyes gazing upon them someday.

And now that he _had_ the opportunity to uncover it, he felt somewhat **nervous**.

He shook his head, let out a familiar sigh - one he usually gave when he was annoyed and was also a mix of a groan - and told himself he was being silly. The contents of the box were nothing bad – in fact, they were something that had made his grandparent's happy when he had presented it to them. Surely his parent's wouldn't be any different.

So why was he so hesitant to give it to them?

"..Honey..?"

He **jumped** at the gentle voice, muffled as it was by the closed door, and tried to calm his racing heart. He was being silly.

"Yeah, mom?" The word was only slightly foreign to his own tongue from lack of use yet at the same time it felt so _right_ to say.

"Is it okay if I come in?"

Rather than answer her, he raced to the door and opened it in a hurried frenzy, seeing the brunette woman with the kindest smile staring down at him. And although it had only been an hour since he had seen her last, he wrapped his arms around her as a form of reassurance that she was in fact _there_ – and that the last few weeks were not another dream of his. Arnold was still trying to digest it all, to _fully_ accept that he had the missing pieces of his life.

Her arms came up to wrap around him automatically, having missed so many hugs over the years that she was only happy to oblige every single one. She smiled tenderly down at him, a familiar, half-lidded expression coming upon er face. Anyone that could have seen it would understand where Arnold got it from. Their reunion was still too fresh for the two of them - and they were soaking up every moment together they could, making up for so much lost time.

And it was Stella that broke that moment, guiding him to look at her so she could speak. "I came to tell you dinner's ready if you're hungry." One hand rose up to smooth some of his blond locks with gentle strokes, giving his brow a quick peck.

He melted at the affection. "I'll be down in a minute, I was..just getting something.." And once again the butterflies returned full force, cheeks which **heated** at the reminder of why he was taking so long to go back down and spend more time with his parent's.

Stella nodded, disentangling herself from her son to begin the trek back downstairs. "Call me if you need anything. Your dad's been cooking up a storm with your grandma and might be a little busy battling with dinner. I saw him with a sword and crying out," she immitated her husband while giving a few air swipes with an imaginary sword, " _get back you fiend_!" And gave a gentle, but highly amused laugh.

Arnold chuckled, the mental image wild with color and costume but sure that the real thing was just as wonderful. "Grandpa has the pizza place on speed dial?"

"Already waiting to place the call.

–See you downstairs, honey."

He nodded, watching his mother make her way back in hopes of rescuing her husband and Arnold could hear his grandmother's laugh floating up to his room before he closed the door to his room.

And was once again left to fight his mental battle.

 _This is silly,_ he argued with himself, thanking his mom's visit for giving him that bit of confidence. He wasn't a small kid anymore (well, 10 was still young but he had compared himself to a 5 year old instead) and his parent's were the most wonderful people in the world (next to his grandparent's).

He had no reason to fear.

It just wasn't the right time. He would do it after dinner, when the boarder's retreated to their room.

Determined, he made his way downstairs to join the others.

—-

He couldn't do it after all.

Arnold lay on top of his bed, pajamas on and freshly bathed as he gazed up at the stars and clouds through his expansive skylight.

Dinner had been quite the show with his father proudly displaying the results of the battle in the kitchen – and everyone eating every last bite. He wasn't a terrible cook but everyone had feared the pairing of mother and son cooking together, since Miles had taken after her in that regard. But it had been edible and his father's first attempt at cooking a real meal for his family since they returned from San Lorenzo. After that it had been lively conversation, wonderful antics from everyone, warm smiles and hearty laughter.

One would think the ten year old would be content. But there was still so much more to share with them and he was frustrated at his own cowardice. Would it all be too much too soon?

"Hey son," now it was his father at the door, knocking first before allowing himself entrance into his son's bedroom. Stella was not too far behind him, "all ready for bed?"

"Uh, yeah." He sat up, watching as his father stood at the foot and leaned against the wall, his mother coming over to sit next to him on the bed.

"You were awfully quiet at dinner today. Is everything okay?"

His mother had noticed – a _sheepish_ smile tugging as he looked at her. "Yeah, everything's perfect." And it was true, but, "…I was thinking a lot during dinner. I– have some stuff I've wanted to show you for a while now but I wasn't sure when the right time was."

His ears **burned** at the admission, sneaking a glance at both of them.

They were quiet, that was to be expected, possibly trying to process the information given. They were a new family, recently reunited, and still learning about each other. It was new territory for him as well as for them.

"Take your time, son," his father answered a few heart beats after his son's admission, giving an encouraging smile. "When you feel ready to show us, you'll know where to find us."

"..Would now be okay?"

This time his mother encouraged him, "Of course."

It was now or never – Arnold hopping off the bed and moving to his closet where he kept it. What was once a shoebox of items he had saved, had turned into a slightly larger box of papers, items, and drawings he had saved over the years – bringing it out and opening it up, taking out a few things first to not overwhelm them.

"I..saved my assignments from school over the years so I could show them to you." Granted he left out how he had saved the ones he had gotten **good** grades on. They didn't have to know of the bad ones he had tossed or had retaken and were now sitting in the box. "Grandpa even saved the ones I didn't bother keeping when I..well..when I began to lose some hope. I thought you'd like to see them someday, when we were all together again."

They weren't quick to move toward the box at first, somehow apprehensive in their own right as they moved closer to it, kneeling down and taking a peek at the top of the piles.

They had missed out on his first day of school, missed out on school recitals, plays, after school sports and the years of Parent's Day. But their son had the sense to preserve what he could so they could at least see the progress he had made, see the memories through photo's and report cards – the old ones yellowing with age.

His parent's silently looked through the plethora of papers, handling them as if they were The Corazon itself – and in a way, they _were_ that important to them.

The corner of Stella's eyes _prickled_ with the overwhelming emotion that wished to spill over. Miles gazed at every picture and read every comment the teacher's had written over the years.

 _–wonderful student–  
–such imagination, you're going to go far in life–  
–perfect score!–_

All while Arnold stood off nervously to the side, awaiting the final verdict.

Which just happened to be a collective hug from the two aging adventurers, Stella no longer able to stop the tears from spilling over her cheeks.

"We were always proud of you, Arnold," his mother's gentle voice cooed, snuggling her face into his soft hair. "Thank you for saving all of this."

Arnold clung to them, grateful he had never given up – even when he had felt like doing so many times. They were back now. They were a family.

And they wouldn't miss out on any more moments together if they could help it.


End file.
